In His Arms
by Firefly Conlon
Summary: There was the sound of hoofbeats, ringing bells, whistles and shouts...after it cleared only one thing remained. The fact that I was an orphan. I guess I'll have to go back to Manhattan...I wonder how they've changed.
1. Poor, Unfortunate Soul

**Okay, so I shouldn't be writing this, seeing as I have two other stories to work on...but I just can't help myself. On the plus side: I have all my stories planned out, so I can't ruin them like I did Wish Gone Wrong, Right? and Here Today, Gone Tomorrow! Thanks Christina Conlon for all the help! NEWSIES SISTAH'S UNITE! CARRYIN DA BANNAH!**

* * *

YOU POOR UNFORTUNATE SOUL,  
SO SAD, BUT TRUE  
IF YOU WANT TO CROSS THE BRIDGE

THEN YOU HAVE TO PAY THE TOLL  
TAKE A GULP OR TAKE A BREATH  
JUST GO AHEAD AND SIGN THE SCROLL

Whistles, shouts, bells rang and hoof beats echoed down alleyways. But it was too late, by the time the smoke cleared, I was an orphan.  
My mother and father died in a terrible fire. They had been staying at a friend's in a town nearby; I had been left in the care of an elderly neighbor. Something, no one really knows what, started their house on fire. No one survived. I was left on my own.  
My father was a policeman, but not a strict one. The local newsboys trusted only him with their quarrels or dangers. My father was a kind and caring man, deeply in love with my mother. My mother was a seamstress for the wealthy; we were a middle class family with a nice apartment. Because my mother was a seamstress, I never went without dresses, petticoats, shoes, stockings, gloves, coats or hats. I was well cared for, and locally known as a beauty.  
I found myself alone, for a sixteen year old, I was calm. Instead of crying or starving myself out of grief, I went to my home. I packed my two bags with all of my clothes and my wool cloak. I took my parent's money out of the bank, all $200 of it. They had been saving for a house, but it wasn't to be. I bought a ticket to Manhattan, the place of my birth, and the home of my cousin, Louis Higgins. The train ride from New Jersey was short, but long enough for me to wonder about all my old friends.  
There was Shane, the little Irish spit-fire and my childhood sweetheart. John, quite the ladies man for a seven year old. George was quiet and shy. James was outspoken and playful. Francis was always jealous of Shane, but he was like a brother to me. I loved them all like brothers, except Shane, who I just flat out adored. They were the only family I had now.  
When the train stopped, I was shoved out with the other passengers onto the dingy train platform. It was a haze of smoke, people, animals, and different languages. Here I was, Belle Rose Vizza, in a sea of strangers. I was pushed and pulled, this way and that, the crowd around me pushing and shoving to get to their places. I walked aimlessly out onto the street, hailing a cab. "To the Manhattan Newsboys Lodging House," I said, remembering my cousin's wish to be a newsie someday. It probably wasn't likely I'd find him there, but you never know. Luck was on my side as I paid the cab driver, turning, I found a short Italian boy looking at me strangely. _Louis Higgins? He got a _little _taller, and he has a cigar. He still has that black hat, only it fits now I see._  
"Louis," I smiled, taking my bags in either hand and walking to his side. He looked at me strangely, before the light of recognition came on in his eyes.  
"Belle? You got so much taller, and look at your hair," he fingered my brown plaits. I set my suitcases down to give him a hug.  
"Do you have room for me?" I asked, wondering how to tell him about my situation. He did it for me.  
"What about your parents? You didn't run away from Uncle Vic and Aunt Becky did you?" he scrutinized my dusty blue dress.  
"No, th-they died in a f-fire," I choked on my words. Still the emotions came slowly. I hadn't even cried in the last two days since their death, every move I made was clear and thought through. Nothing was hasty or stupid; all of my decisions were made efficiently. Strange way to react to your parents' deaths huh? "How are Francis, George, John, James, and, his name was last for a reason. I didn't know if he was still alive, "Shane?" I asked.  
"Good, Shane especially," Louis laughed at something and motioned me inside.  
"Heya Race, who's da dame?" a tall boy with brown hair and a black cowboy hat said. _Francis?_  
"You don't recognize me?" I feigned shock; Francis' eyes grew wide and disbelieving. It _had_ been five years. I hadn't seen him since I was eleven years old.  
"Belle Vizza? Is dat youse?" he asked, striding over to envelope me in a hug.  
"Yes, but Francis, I need to breathe," I gasped out. He chuckled and set me back on my feet.  
"Call me Jack, and dat," he pointed to Louis, "Is Racetrack. He is so called because he is forever going to the Sheepshead Bay races."  
"Thanks, anyone else I know here?" I asked, looking around the otherwise abandoned room.  
"Yes," Jack walked over to a set of rickety stairs and shouted up them, "Blink, Skittery, Mush, get yoah butts down heah, we'se got a lady visitah." The sound of three teenage boys tripping over each other to get downstairs was followed by three familiar faces. Two looked shocked and one smiled.  
"Belle," John walked over to hug me, his strong arms gentler than Jack's had been. "Ise John, remembah? Youse can call me Mush, dats me newsie name."  
"Belle?" George asked, flipping up a worn eye patch to blink at me with both of his crystal blue orbs.  
"Yes, and what do they call you two?" I motioned for George and James to answer.  
"Ise Kid Blink, or jus Blink," George answered.  
"Ise Skittery," James said timidly, not at all the same little talkative child I'd left all those years ago.  
"What should we call youse?" Race asked, throwing his arm casually over my shoulder. I was about the same height as him, shortness must run in the family...  
"Umm, I don't know," I shrugged.  
"Isn't Belle a princess in Europe or sometin?" Blink said.  
"Let's call her Princess," Mush laughed.  
"Princess it is," I smiled, pulling the boys into a group hug while one face still floated in my head.  
"How's Shane?" I asked.  
"He's good, runs Brooklyn pretty well," Jack shrugged, "Most of da newsies refer ta him as da King of Brooklyn."  
"Who is talkin about me witout me pahmission?" a familiar, yet slightly deeper, voice came from the door behind me. I turned; there stood a taller, tanner, more muscular version of my Shane. Shane Thomas Conlon.  
"I was," I blushed, hoping he would remember. My hopes were dashed to the floor like a china plate.  
"Race, who is dat?" Shane turned to Racetrack, cocking his head to the side. He shoved away from the door frame where he had been leaning, and came a little closer. I raised my pink face to meet his blue eyes with my green ones.  
"Belle?" he sounded shocked, he _did _remember!  
"Yeah, I'm back," I smiled halfheartedly.  
"What about yoah parents?" he asked. Countless times people had asked me about their deaths over the last two days, only when Shane asked did it fully register in my head. A wave of hurt, sadness, abandonment, and loneliness washed over me. I stood trembling, tears beginning to leak from my eyes, collecting at my chin and falling to the grimy wood floor below.  
"D-d-d-dead," I stuttered, falling forward, unable to stand on my own two legs.  
"Belle, Ise so sorry," Shane caught me up in his arms. He carried me upstairs bridal style, I was shaking as sobs wracked my thin frame. My skinny arms were wrapped around Shane's neck in a vain attempt to hold on. Shane set me down on a bunk, sitting next to me; he pulled me onto his lap and pet my hair. Slowly my sobs stopped, and I looked up into his face.  
"I missed you Shane," I said.  
"I missed you too Belle, we all did," he looked around. Each boy nodded, Race made a final grunt...having hauled my suitcases up the stairs.  
"Heahs yoah tings," Race said, taking a deep breath.  
"Thanks, I think I need a bath," I looked down at my dusty green dress. Opening my smaller suitcase, I pawed through the shoes, stockings gloves and gaiters. I located my hairbrush and nightgown, glad I had asked for the more modest one.  
"Right dis way," Jack lead me to a door, closing it behind me. I pumped the cold water into a tub and sank in gratefully, thanking the good Lord for these boys.

RACE'S POV

This was no time to panic. As Belle bathed and brushed and groomed, we decided what to do with her.  
"She could come to Brooklyn," Spot offered.  
"Naw, dats too dangerous," Skittery said, speaking up.  
"Good point Skits," Jack said, nodding.  
"Come on guys, it's me goil," Spot said.  
"Spot, she ain't been yoah goil foah five yeahs. You've had plenty of goils since she was gone," I said.  
"None of em was Belle," Spot looked down at the table he was leaning on, ashamed of the truth.  
"Yeah, well none of em is gonna be Belle, she might as well stay in da extra room here," Blink said.  
"Alright, so it's settled, Princess is stayin in Hattan," Mush said, smiling. Mush and Belle were the best of friends when they were younger; he was the only one that recognized her right away.  
"Princess?" Spot said, turning to Mush, his blue eyes flashing anger.  
"Her newsie name, when you gonna tell her yoahs?" I asked/explained to a very peeved Spot.  
"Soon as she comes out of dat batroom," Spot said, looking wistfully at the door.  
"Ise remembah when youse kissed her undah dat tree in Central Pahk," I laughed, slapping his arm. "On da cheek."  
"Yeah, good times," Skittery said. Jack's face fell a little. _Oh yeah..._  
"Guys, where should I bed down?" the feminine voice came from an angel in a white nightgown. She looked at us, shock written plainly across our features, she crossed her arms in front of her chest, blushing.  
"Right dis way Princess," I lead her to a small room off to the side. She thanked me, hauling her suitcases inside and lying down on the thin sheets.  
"G'night boys, G'night Shane," another blush from Princess.  
"M'name's Spot," Spot said, giving her forehead a light kiss and leaving the Lodging House for Brooklyn.  
Princess sighed and laid down, her wet hair dampening her pillow. When we were back in the bunk room, and alone, I turned to Jack.  
"Tink she's ovah him?" he asked. My reply was simple.  
"Nope."

* * *

**New concepts for me! So, here it is...reveiws make the world go round! The first two people to comment get characters in it! Cept I get to name you! Hehe! Thanks guys and dolls! (I'm evil)**


	2. I'll Try

"I AM NOT A CHILD NOW  
I CAN TAKE CARE OF MYSELF  
MUSN'T LET THEM DOWN NOW  
MUSN'T LET THEM SEE ME CRY"

-Peter Pan Return To Neverland 'I'll Try'

It was the morning of my second day in Manhattan. I pulled my black mourning skirt out of my suitcase and put it on, tears wetting my cheeks. I unpacked the rest of my clothes, several skirts and assorted blouses with all of their accessories. After I was done finding distractions; I let the pain and sorrow win over. I flopped onto the bed in a heap of misery and hatred, hatred towards the fire, towards myself for not dying with my parents, for everything.

It was in that sodden heap of anger and depression, that Racetrack found me.

"Princess, it's only been a few days, I understand," he wiped the tears from my face and pushed my hair back., "But youse gotta get up and move along like the rest of us did. Shane, John, George. Francis was too young to remember losing his mother, but he knows what it's like to feel betrayed and hated as well as you and I. Come on Belle, let's go get lunch," he pulled my to my feet and led me to the bathroom. I pulled my hair into a bun and washed my face.

"Thanks Louis, I knew you would be there for me, no matter what. Tomorrow I'll get a job, but today I will mourn. Thanks Race," I used his newsie name and he smiled at me.

Race led me to a diner called 'Tibby's', which was filled to bursting with newsies of every shape and size.

"Hey Princess!" Jack called from a table in the corner.

"Hi Jack!" I called back, he motioned for me to come over. Seated at his table was a redheaded boy I didn't recognize, and a brunette. I sat down next to the brunette girl.

"Dis is Davey," Jack motioned to the boy, "and Dawn." the girl.

"I'm Princess," I smiled at them. The girl instantly began a conversation with me about skirts and Jack and Davey started talking about selling spots.

"So, I hear you know Brooklyn," Dawn smiled conspiratorially.

"I do," I said.

"Spot Conlon is crazy you know," she crossed her eyes and I laughed.

"No one know better than me!" I giggled.

"How so?" it was then that my life story poured out of me, I felt like I had no control.

"We lived in Dublin together, grew up right next door to each other. He would pull my hair, I would steal his ball, kid stuff. Then Aunt and Uncle Higgins sent word from America, they had made enough money for us to come. They sent more than enough for six people. So Ma, Father, Mr. and Mrs. Conlon, Shane and I got on the boat for America. Mrs. Conlon died on the crossing, and Shane was distraught. Mr. Conlon was driven to drinking excessive amounts and Shane spent most of his life with us. Until Ma and Father said we were moving to New Jersey, Shane and I were devastated to be separated from each other. Fate is cruel sometimes.

"Just this past week, my parents died in a fire. Here I am, back with my gang of childhood friends," Dawn, Jack, and Davey were staring with open mouths.

"I babble, sorry," I said sadly.

"I get the feeling you needed to say that," Dawn patted my shoulder.

"I have some things to do," I said, standing up.

"Alright, it was nice to meet you!" Dawn smiled, "Want any help?"

"Thanks! Sounds great, just some shopping. Girl time with a new friend sounds nice," I smiled as she rose to leave with me. I was halfway to the door when Jack called goodbye. I turned around to wave, but bumped into something solid. I fell backwards, a strong arm slipped around my waist and pulled me back up.

"Thanks," I said, looking into the smirking face of Shane...Spot. "Oh!" I dodged around him, pulling Dawn by the wrist.

"You really want to avoid him, why?" Dawn asked once we were safely outside the restaurant.

"Secret," I said.

"Okay," she didn't push the matter.

"Are you staying in Manhattan?" Dawn asked.

"Yeah, you?" I asked.

"Women's Boarding House in the north side," she said glumly. I had an idea.

"I have a bunk bed in my room, and I'm the only girl, why don't you come stay with us?" I asked.

"The boys are always really respectful, plus I know them all," I reassured her. Her face lit up.

"Really? I just met you! Jack was right-" she cut herself off, blushing.

"Jack was right about what?" I asked, probing.

"Jack said you were generous and kind," she said.

"Jack still likes me doesn't he?" I sighed. Poor Francis, I just _did not_ feel that way for him. I hadn't since childhood, he had been jealous of Shane. Constantly picking on him when I wasn't around. Surprisingly, Shane had been meek and easy to blush as a child. Jack had turned cold, Spot had gotten loud and bossy, James had gotten quiet...everyone had changed drastically.

"I think so, but you still like Spot don't you?" she asked nonchalantly.

"I don't know, it's been so long!" I threw my hands up in surrender.

"I understand," she smiled.

"I just don't know how I feel about anything anymore," I sighed in defeat. Dawn put a comforting hand around my shoulder.

"I totally get it!" she laughed, which surprised me.

"What is it?" I asked.

"You still like him!" she laughed again.

"How can you tell, if I can't?" I asked, furrowing my eyebrows.

"The way you talk about him, the way you got all flustered at Tibby's! I totally get it," she smiled at me again.

"Girls, we're so confusing," I used a boy's line to make myself smile as well. "What's your favorite color?" I asked.

"Blue, why?" I pulled her into the dressmakers store. I knew the owner. When we came out, we were both dressed in fresh new skirts. Dawn's was light blue with a dark blue ribbon at the waist. Mine was green with a row of lace at the hem.

"Thank you so much, I haven't gotten a new dress in so long!" Dawn said, looking down to inspect it.

"No problem, I have two hundred dollars in the bank, I desperately needed to go shopping and have a female friend," I said smiling. "I'm glad we're friends now Dawn."

"Me too," she hugged me. I hugged her back, it felt nice to have a companion of the same gender as me!

"Can I trust you?" I had only just met her, but I was ready to share this.

"What?" she leaned close to me.

"I think I still like Shane," I whispered.

"Shane?" she asked,

"Spot, sorry I'm not used to his name yet," I said.

"I would have never guessed that would be his real name, he's so secretive! Hot, but secretive," she waggled her eyebrows. She knew just the right way to make me laugh.

"Thanks for brightening up my day Dawn, your name is fitting!" I made my own joke. She just nodded and then smiled again.

"Wanna get my stuff from the boarding house and head to my new home?" she asked excitedly,

"Good idea, night will be falling soon," I nodded as we headed for the door of a dirty brown building.

Dawn grabbed her stuff and made a mad dash out of there. We joked and laughed all the way back to the lower east side of Manhattan.

"Race!" I called, stepping inside the Lodging House.

"Yeah?" he asked.

"Dawn's living here from now on, in my room, with me!" I called. He just nodded, smiling triumphantly as he collected his winnings from another round of poker.

"I'm paid for," she called, no one reacted.

"They're in 'the zone'," I said with air quotes.

"Understood," she giggled. The boys were sitting around a table squinting at their cards or each other, glasses of _something_ sat next to each player, generally untouched. Dawn and I unpacked her things into the bottom half of the dresser and sat on the bunk talking until nightfall. That was the best 'worst' day of my life!

When I woke up the next day, Dawn had left a note. _Went to work, see you at Winchester Books! We need another employee, boss already approved you, hurry! Dawn_

Thanks for the short warning! I threw on my peach colored skirt and brushed my hair out of my face, leaving the Lodging House in a hurried pace I headed to Winchester Books on Main Street.

Here we go.

* * *

**I do not own Newsies. **

**Firefly/Spot fans: 'On the Streets of Brooklyn' may be coming out. It's a collection of songfics and lines. A full blown musical just for Spot Conlon and Firefly, outlining Spot's past and Firefly's past. Interesting, and nothing at all to do with WGR or WGWR. **

**Brooklyn Bride fans: School calls and I'm taking a break. I'm updating a fifth chapter and saying goodbye for a couple of weeks, do not worry, i shan't flake and not finish it. It will be finished. I just need to let it sit for a while. **

**Spot!muse wants to say something: _Listen bummas, Firefly's woikin real hahd ta get dese chapters up every week or so, so reveiw. Or i'll send me boids aftah youse, and it won't be pretty! Kapeesh? Good, Ise outta heah. Ise got a date wit Firefly to get ready foah! _**

**Thanks Spot!muse...hehe. Anyhow, I'll see you lovelies soon. **

**IF I GET 50 REVIEWS BY THE TIME THIS STORY IS FINISHED...I WILL MAKE A YOUTUBE VIDEO FOR IT! THANKS! REVIEW!**


	3. Whistle A Happy Tune

**Here it is, the next chapter to the fanfiction I shouldn't be writing. Sorry BB, I'm setting you in a drawer for a while, but am currently working on the "Miracle Jack scene" thanks. **

* * *

WHEN SHIVERING IN MY SHOES

I HOLD MY HEAD ERECT

AND WHISTLE A HAPPY TUNE

SO NO ONE WILL SUSPECT

I'M AFRAID

-The King and I 'Whistle a Happy Tune'

All the girls that worked at Winchester Books were wealthy young women with respectable families. They gossiped constantly, and hated the newsies. All newsies except one: Spot Conlon. I overheard girls talking about him behind shelves while they stocked.

"Did you hear about Betsy-Lynn?"

"No,"

"Well it was horrid!"

"What happened?"

"She dropped her handkerchief right in front of Spot!"

"Oh my! What did he do?"

"Walked right by!"

"Oh my! The shame!"

It was hilarious to hear about my friends escapades with the young women of New York. He turned down dates with an amazing amount of them every week. I have been working at WB for about two weeks, with only glimpses of Spot once and a while. Dawn was my constant companion and conspirator of evil. We were best friends, with good reason.

It was on a calm sunny day that scandal rocked Winchester.

"Belle, someone is here for you," Alissa huffed. I winked at Dawn and headed to the front with Alissa.

"Who?" I asked.

"Someone," she huffed again, her head obnoxiously high in the air. She pointed with angst to the figure leaning up against the front desk.

"I brought you lunch," Spot said, smirking.

"Spot?" I asked, aghast.

"Who else Princess?" he asked.

"Princess?" Alissa just _had_ to put her two cents in.

"Belle heah is an honorary newsie, youse didn't know dat dollface?" Spot asked a now-peeved Alissa.

"No I didn't," she gave one last angry huff before disappearing into the back room.

"There goes my reputation Spot," I sighed dramatically.

"Youse neva had one Princess," he said. His accent made me wonder.

"What happened to that adorable little Irish accent Shane Thomas Conlon?" he winced at his full name.

"Still here lass, but donna call me that again," he said.

"There tis that dear accent that twould make any lass' heart break in two," I said in my own accent.

"Never forget where ye are from Belle," he scolded. I ate the lunch he had brought me as we talked about meeting up again.

"I canna, no matter how hard I try!" I laughed.

"I'll see youse around," he left, his Brooklyn accent back in it's proper place.

"Sure thing," I smiled.

"You think he still likes you?" Dawn's voice came from behind me.

"I have no idea, but I still think he's crazy!" I laughed heartily as I cleaned up the front counter and arranged a pile of orders. Customers came and went, hours passed. I just thought back on the days when taking care of my sheep, Molley, was my first priority. Dawn and I walked home and I went to sleep early. Thanking her for the job once again.

_I was standing in my kitchen in Ireland, Shane was next to me. "Mrs. Vizza, can Belle come to the fair with me and pa today?" his accent wasn't buried under a New York polish. _

"_O' course lad," my mother smiled._

"_Thanks Ma!" I ran to hug her._

"_Be back by nightfall!" she scolded as Shane and I ran to his house next door. He lifted me up into the back of his father's wagon. For a seven year old boy, he was strong. He also had good manners for one so young. _

"_Belle, are you gonna be me lass someday?" he asked._

"_I donna know Shane, we're far too young to worry 'bout those things," I smiled, slapping his arm lightly._

"_Ya never can know! I mean, look at your own Ma and Fa," he said, "They fell in love at our age!" _

"_They were lucky ones Shane, let's jus' focus on the fair!" I giggled as we came up on the tents full of livestock. We wandered around, hand in hand for the afternoon. Then my dream shifted to something darker. _

_I was in New York, in an alleyway, I was nine._

"_Father, help me!" I called out. Mr. Conlon stood in front of me swaying._

"_Where is Shane?" he asked._

"_I don't know!" I cried, desperate to protect my friend from his dangerous father. _

"_Tell me!" he bellowed._

"_I don't know!" I said again, tears streaking down my dirty young face, I backed up against the brick wall tighter. _

"_I'm right here!" an angry Shane with half a New York accent ran into the alley and decked his drunken father with one anger-fueled blow. I ran to cling to him._

"_I'll protect you Belle, I promise!" he hugged me to his dirty shirt. I let my tears fall as my dream shifted again. This time to the train platform._

"_Shane I'm scared," my dainty white gloved hand in his bulky be-mittened one._

"_I am too, how can I protect you when you aren't here with me?" he asked, his brow furrowed as he looked down at me. We were eleven, he had already grown wiry and taller than me. His potential came through though, he would be strong someday. _

"_You've always protected me from bullies and the Delancy's" I said sorrowfully. "But I won't be able to _see_ you every day!" I cried. The tears still falling down my face._

"_I love you Belle," Shane's face was the mask it was today at age sixteen. Cold, dangerous, and full of authority. It foreshadowed his rising to the position of King of Brooklyn._

"_I love you too!" I cried as the train pulled in. For eleven year olds, these words meant more than they do as fifty year olds. My mother came and separated us. I hugged Shane fiercely as she pulled me away from him, sobbing._

_He stood there, bravely, as the train left the station. My eyes never left him as he became lost in the haze of smoke, animals, people, and different languages. Shane Thomas Conlon was mine, and I was his. _

I felt someone shaking my shoulders.

"Belle, are you okay?" Dawn woke me up. My face was wet and I was shaking.

"Yeah, nightmare," I said.

"You were murmuring 'I love you' and crying, dreaming about your parents?" she asked. Ashamed of the truth, I just nodded mutely. "It's alright," she handed me a glass of water that I drank gratefully.

"I guess I just miss them a lot," I said.

"We all did," Dawn hugged me. "We have work in the morning, go back to sleep."

This time my sleep was light and dreamless, although I prayed for Spot's face to once again rule my dreams.

I was actually quite scared of living in New York again. Race was here. Jack was here. Spot was here. Those were the three sentences that held me in the Lodging House at night when the nightmares about my past struck. The most horrid nightmare was of the day I learned my parents died.

"_Belle, I'm sorry. Your mother and father have died in a fire." it was blunt. Mr. Chrystal didn't even spare a second glance as he walked away. He left me standing in front of my house, alone and crying. _

"_Ma," my voice was raspy. "Father," it sounded like chalk on a chalkboard._

"_I love you!" I cried out. _

Dreaming was a dangerous thing that brought painful memories back from the dead. I tossed and turned many a night, not showing any of my pain during the day. I was perfectly normal, happy, silly Belle. And it worked, until one night when everything began to come back together. The night Spot asked me to a show with him.

"Would youse go to a show wid me? As me goil? Tonight?" he asked, nervously running a hand through his hair.

"Yes, I would love to," I smiled, remembering the words he said the day of the train platform and wondering if he still felt that way. _It's been five years, don't push it Belle_, my brain was rational.

"I'm glad I can protect youse again," he hugged me. Reminding me of the night he made that promise.

"I'm glad to be protected, I smiled into his dirty shirt once again.

"Do you like Shakespeare?" he asked.

"Yeah, why?" I asked, looking up at him.

"The show is magic and Shakespeare, I thought maybe you'd like it," Spot looked sheepish.

"I would love it!" I smiled. Jack entered, ruining the moment.

"Did I interrupt something?" he asked, knowing the answer and looking rather smug about the whole thing.

"Nope," I would not give a testosterone filled, jealous friend the opportunity to beat up my other testosterone filled, jealous friend. No matter how much he egged me on.

"So Conlon, what happened to Amy and Charlotte?" Jack asked.

"Who and who?" I looked up at Spot's angry face.

"No one of importance," Spot said through gritted teeth. _That did not work out well at all. Come one Belle, think!_

"Spot, maybe you'd better head home. I'll see you later, okay?" I gave him a hug and a peck on the cheek before watching him slam the old door behind him. It was then that I turned to Jack in anger.

"You may be jealous, but I will not have you ruining my time with Spot. It has been five _years_ Francis Sullivan, or have you forgotten the fact I'm your friend?"

"I'm sorry, I'm only trying to protect you! Spot is a total player. He has a new girlfriend every week and I just don't want to see you hurt," Jack pleaded.

"Just stay out of my business," I said, turning and leaving. I looked around Central Park before I found Racetrack.

"Race, I have a problem," I admitted.

"What is it Princess?" he asked.

"I have a date, what should I do?" I asked.

"With?"

"Someone," I avoided answering.

"Be yourself, trust me Belle, boys hate it when you try to act the way you think they'd want you to," Race said seriously. "Spot hates girls who are clingy or act tough, Jack hates girls who are airheads around him. I hate girls who are against gambling, or think horses are 'pretty' understand where I'm going?" he asked. I nodded and thanked him. I hurried back to the lodging house to tell Dawn.

"Dawn, I need your help with something!" I said.

"What?"

"Picking out an outfit for my date with Spot. I don't want to look to casual, or too dressy, can you help?" I asked.

"Of course," so we set about looking at all of my clothes and picking out an outfit for me to wear tonight. We decided on a pale blue skirt and a plain blouse with a small broach.

"Thanks so much!" I said.

"No problem," I said.

"Where's Princess?" I heard Spot's voice from downstairs.

"Getting dolled up foah some date," Jack sounded jealous. I heard Racetrack snort.

"Some date eh?" Spot asked.

"Let's go," I motioned to Dawn and we left the room quietly.

"Spot! You're on time!" I flew down the stairs into his waiting embrace.

"Let's get going," he smiled at me.

"Wait..._Spot_ is yoah date?" Race asked, aghast.

"Yep," I smiled as I left the Lodging House with Spot. This was gonna be a fun night.


	4. Somewhere Out There

**This chapter uses a lot of Gaelic, the Gealic is in _italics_ and then the translation is underneath in _(Parenthases and italics) _So you don't have to go to the bottom of the chapter for a translation every single time. :) Fluffy goodness awaits you...It's short, but school starts tuesday for me. So I might not be updating as much. But don't worry, I will never abandon youse!**

**The lyrics:**

**_Shule, shule, shule aroon,  
Shule go succir agus, shule go kewn,  
Shule go dheen durrus oggus aylig lume,  
Iss guh day thoo avorneen slawn._**

**Are in PHONETIC GAELIC, so that is not how those words are really spelled. I just wanted to clear that up. CHECK OUT 'Celtic Woman' "Siulil A Run" to see how beautiful the song really is. It just makes me feel good inside...maybe that's because listening to a pretty language just makes people happy. Idk, maybe it's because I'm Irish, I really don't know. Just listen. **

**So: ON WITH THE FLUFFINESS! **

* * *

SOMEWHERE OUT THERE

BENEATH THE PALE MOONLIGHT

SOMEONE'S THINKING OF ME

AND LOVING ME TONIGHT

An American Tail 'Somewhere Out There'

Spot lead me to a small theater near the bridge. I walked into the dimly lit room, Spot lead me to a private box in the very middle above the center aisle. It was obviously the best seat in the house, and I wondered how he could afford tickets.

"Spot, how did you pay for all this?" I motioned at our seats.

"I know the owner, it's the second week of the show and business is slow, so he spared me the seats," Spot smiled over at me reassuringly. It was then that the lights blacked and the curtain parted on a beach scene.

"Boatswain!," the actor playing The Master began the Tempest, I sat back in my seat and watched it move along. I laughed, clung to Spot during the storm, and enjoyed the show. After words, the stage was cleared and a band was set up.

"What are they doing?" I asked.

"There's a dance after the show," Spot smiled, "Will you be my partner?"

"Of course," I smiled. The band played several slow songs, and Spot and I swayed to the music. This was so different than our childhood. Dancing like this, with Spot's arms around my waist and my face on his shoulder. It just felt so _right_ like that. I wasn't uncomfortable, and I knew Spot wasn't either. It just confused me more.

After five years, that just seeing his face can still give me butterflies. To tell the truth, I was scared. Scared that I would lose the life I had come to like. Once you lose someone or something, you don't trust the world to let you keep anything else. So I enjoyed my time and banished the saddening thoughts from my head.

"Princess," Spot looked down at me.

"Yes," I said.

"Do you still like me?" he asked.

"Yes," I smiled into his shirt.

"Good," he rested his chin on the top of my head.

"Spot, one second," I ran over to the band and asked them to do me a special favor. If they knew the song 'Cry of the Celts,' which they did. I returned to Spot as the fiddler played the first few chords, warning the dancers to prepare. Spot laughed and grabbed my wrists in his hands. We jigged and twirled across the dance floor like we did in Ireland, it made me laugh and smile. I pulled my skirt up to show my ankles, doing a complicated series of steps and giving Spot and impish grin that said 'I dare you'. He would copy me, then shoot me one of his own, I usually got it right. The other dancers formed a ring, and clapped in rhythm to the face paced music.

By the time it was over, I was exhausted. I thanked the band, and left with Spot. My head rested on his shoulder, and his arm was around my waist. We walked back to the Lodging house in a comfortable silence, my mind still racing with the possibility that I still loved him in _that_ way. Not like a brother, but like a _suitor_. It was strange. I knew that Spot didn't feel the same way, it just wasn't possible.

If Jack's warnings were correct, if my Shane Conlon had become a player in my absence, I had no one but myself to blame My parents were gone, and the thought sent pangs of grief throughout my body. I had only the newsies, and I didn't want to lose any of them. I felt myself falling forward, my eyes closing to sleep. Spot swept me up into his arms and carried me to the Lodging house.

I felt myself being laid down and covered with a sheet. I heard his soft voice begin the lullaby my mother would always sing to us as children.

"I wish I was on yonder hill  
'Tis there I'd sit and cry my fill,  
And every tear would turn a mill,  
Is go dte tu mo mhuirnin slan

_Shule, shule, shule aroon,  
Shule go succir agus, shule go kewn,  
Shule go dheen durrus oggus aylig lume,  
Iss guh day thoo avorneen slawn._

I'll sell my rod, I'll sell my reel,  
I'll sell my only spinning wheel,  
To buy my love a sword of steel  
Is go dte tu mo mhuirnin slan.

_Shule, shule, shule aroon,  
Shule go succir agus, shule go kewn,_

_Shule go dheen durrus oggus aylig lume,_

_Iss guh day thoo avorneen slawn._

I'll dye my petticoats, I'll dye them red,  
And 'round the world I'll beg my bread,  
Until my parents shall wish me dead,  
Is go dte tu mo mhuirnin slan.

_Shule, shule, shule aroon,  
Shule go succir agus, shule go kewn,  
Shule go dheen durrus oggus aylig lume,  
Iss guh day thoo avorneen slawn._

But now my love has gone to France,  
To try his fortune to advance;  
If he e'er comes back, 'tis but a chance,  
Is go dte tu mo mhuirnin slan

_Shule, shule, shule aroon,  
Shule go succir agus, shule go kewn,  
Shule go dheen durrus oggus aylig lume,  
Iss guh day thoo avorneen slawn._

I wish, I wish, I wish in vain,  
I wish I had my heart again,  
And vainly think I'd not complain,  
Is go dte tu mo mhuirnin slan"

_(Come, come, come, O love,  
Quickly come to me, softly move;  
Come to the door, and away we'll flee,  
And safe for aye may my darling be!)_

It made tears fall from my eyes, and I rolled away so Spot couldn't see. But he already had.

"You miss them don't you Belle?" he asked. I nodded, rustling my pillow. "We all did at first. You'll adjust, sometimes, when its very warm at night, and I am alone...I go out onto the roof and cry. No one else will ever know that except you, because _Tá tú mo chroí, Tá grá agam duit_."

_(You are my heart, I love you)_

"Really Shane?" I asked. Turning to face him. _"Tá sé seo a bheith chomh fada, tá mé mearbhall."_

_(It's been so long, I am confused)_

"I know, and I wish I could have gone to Jersey wit youse. I really do. Do youse remembah da day my Pa took us to da fair in Ireland?" He asked. _My dream...how did he know?_

"When you asked me if I was going to be your lass," I smiled.

"Yeah, will you be? Me goil?" I sat up, pulling myself from the sheet.

"Shane Thomas Conlon, I will," I beamed. "But you must refer to me by my Irish name. Not Princess, not Belle," I said.

"Okay, what is it?" he asked, confused.

" Aednat," I said with a smirk of my own. "Can you pronounce it?" I asked.

"Anet," he smiled. _He can pronounce it! _"Little fire indead!" He knew what it meant!

"_Póg dom,_" I said. And he did, Shane Thomas Conlon of Dublin Ireland kissed me on the lips.

(_Kiss me)_

"Goodnight Anet," Spot said, smiling to dim the sun.

"Goodnight _ grá," _and then he was gone. I fell asleep that night smiling and dreaming of Irish girls in green dresses. And Spot Conlon.

In the morning, I skipped to work. Dawn was utterly confused...until we arrived. Alissa had her nose in the air, and Emily and Jasmine were being particularily rude to me. Dawn's eyes got extremely wide as she turned to me.

"No." she gasped, clasping my wrist.

"Yep! Shane is my boyfriend," I smiled.

"Good for you! You deserve him," Dawn returned my happy smile and turned to dust off a bookshelf.

"Dawn, do you want to meet all the newsies today? Since you're living with them now?" I asked.

"That would be helpful," she smiled back at me. So after a satisfying day at work, Dawn and I went to Tibby's to introduce her to all the boys.

"At this table we have Jack, Davey, Racetrack, and Kid Blink," I pointed to each boy, and they waved to Dawn. She smiled, she already knew Jack and Racetrack.

"Over there are Mush, Specs, Skittery and Crutchy," I pointed again, and they smiled. Crutchy gave an enthusiastic wave and Dawn blushed. _Good, she deserves someone as sweet as Crutchy!_ She immediately walked over to that table and began talking with the boys. I sat next to Race and ate my lunch, it had been a pretty good week for a girl who just lost her parents. Maybe I could trust my heart again.

_Come, come, come, O love,  
Quickly come to me, softly move;  
Come to the door, and away we'll flee,  
And safe for aye may my darling be!_

_

* * *

_

**Rievew please! Thanks a ton! **

**Here you go Christina: Crutchilisciousness**


	5. Another 100 People

**The reason they have three names is simple: No one in 1880 would have been able to pronounce 'Aednat'. So they came up with different names for their very Irish children. **

**Aednat: (anet) 'Little Fire'**

**Ryan: (rye-an) 'Little King' hehe**

**Thanks! **

**Short chappies cause school started today! Working on my other stories and my co-written one with elizabethbennet3553!**

* * *

AND THEY WALK TOGETHER

PAST UPHOLSTERED WALLS

AND THE CRUDE REMARKS

IT'S A CITY OF STRANGERS

-Company 'Another 100 People'

After my date with Spot, I thought about the song he sang. It was meant to be sung by a woman; about the man she loved leaving her. I suppose it worked for Spot and I, only backwards.

I stood and stretched my legs, which were _still_ sore from all the dancing we did. I pulled a pale pink skirt out of my drawer and headed for the washroom. It was still too early for the newsies to be up, but when I walked into the bathroom, someone was standing there. I squeaked as we bumped shoulders, it was Jack.

"Jack, one of these days you'll give me a heart attack!" I put my hand over my heart melodramatically.

"That would be better than getting it broken by Spot, eh?" he asked me.

"What's wrong with him?" I began brushing my hair.

"Don't you see Belle? Don't you see who he really is?" Jack asked, "Or are you blinded by your past?" His comments stung, he knew what it was like being alone. He had no less right to feel that way than anyone else, but he should also know it hurt.

"I don't know why you two are fighting, but leave me out of it!" I said, my Irish temper flaring. I was biting back on it, harshly.

"You just don't get it!" he threw his hands up. "_You_ Belle, _you_ are the reason we're fighting. But I should have known that he'd win, he always does. You're not the first one Belle." With that, Jack left. My face was beet red; my brush was clenched tightly in my hand, turning my knuckles white. _Don't let him get to you Aednat! _I used my Irish name when trying to calm myself. _He's trying to make you doubt Spot; you haven't been here for five years. Jack could be lying! Spot could be lying too, but you love him. _Love, _there, I said it! You _love_ Shane Thomas Conlon! So forget that Francis is jealous, forget all about it!_

It's hard to forget when you come home from an early day of work and said boys are arguing.

I had gotten out of work early because they didn't need me at the Bookstore. I stood outside the Lodging House door, listening to them fight.

"She doesn't need you! Jus' leave her alone!" Jack shouted. "She's got me an' Race!"

"You're just jealous, you know dat she loves me," Spot was seemingly calmer, which surprised me.

"Does she?" I could tell this stung Spot just as much as Jack's earlier comments hurt me.

"Youse don't know her like Ise do. You didn't live wit her foah yeahs!" Spot shot back.

"I know, its okay with me," Jack said. "I'm not her 'wee Irish laddy' am I? I'm totally fine with that! She's just a girl, Spot, she don't know better," _Jack did not just call me a 'girl' as if it was derogatory!_

I made my entrance.

"Do you think you'd love me more if I was a boy, Jack? If I could fight and tease the Delancy brothers like you do?" I asked.

"No, I-I-" he knew he was in trouble.

"You _what_ Jack? You don't even care. If you loved me, you wouldn't hurt me like this!" I felt the hot tears falling down my cheeks to pool on the floor. I was trembling with anger and hurt at his words. _He doesn't know what it's like. Not getting to say goodbye! His mother died holding him, I never even got to say goodbye…_

"Jus', jus' get outta Manhattan and never come back," Jack snarled. "We don't need you here anyway! GO!"

"FINE!" I stomped past him up the stairs to get my stuff. I threw my clothing into a single suitcase and left the Lodging House. My face was red and rubbed raw from the tears, my throat was swelled from sobbing. Spot silently took my suitcase in his left hand, and held my hand with his other.

"He does love youse, he just don't know how ta say it," Spot whispered. "I am sorry foah what he said though, no one should have to hear that."

"Its all my fault, I should have stayed in Jersey," I choked.

"If youse had sayed in Joisy, I would still be missin me goil," he said, "I love youse Anet!"

"I love you too Spot!" I said; my voice unfaltering. He found me an attic room in Brooklyn, where I set out all of my things and aired out the blankets that were covered with dust.

"Do youse need help?" he asked.

"I just need to be alone for awhile," I said. He nodded and walked off. Halfway down the staircase, he turned back around.

"Just yell me Irish name if youse need me," he said. A puzzled look crossed my face. _I don't know his Irish name_!

"I don't know it!" I said. He smirked again.

"Ryan," he left. I laughed, for once in a long while. I gave a full out belly laugh, my sides beginning to hurt. _Ryan, I should have known!_ **(A/N Ryan in Gaelic means 'little king')**


	6. Breathe

**Woohoo! yay for fluffy goodness. Next chapter is kinda angsty and sorry for the cliffy. I'll prolly update in a week or even five days! In His Arms will soon be drawing to a close, sadly enough. I'm sorry guys! **

**Guess who's trick-or-treating as Spot Conlon? ME! **

**Guess who's story was reviews by the acclaimed 'Dimensional Traveller'? MINE! THANK YOU DT! **

* * *

THIS IS MY STREET

I SMILE AT THE FACES

I'VE KNOWN ALL MY LIFE

THEY REGARD ME WITH PRIDE  
-'Breathe' In the Heights

Jack hurt me, deep down inside he re-opened boxes I _wanted_ to be shut. He made memories of long forgotten nights reappear in my head. Listening to Mrs. Conlon cough and slowly fade, watching Spot's heart break; keeping a constant eye out for the drunken Mr. Conlon when we went to the market together on Saturday afternoons. It hurt me. And even though I put on my brave face and went to work everyday and came home to Spot's arms every night…I was wracked with nightmares.

I would wake up; Spot gently rubbing between my shoulder blades and whispering in our native tongue in my ear. That happened for two weeks, ever since Jack had made those callous remarks. One night was so bad; I couldn't bear to fall back asleep and face the memories alone again. So I carefully made my way to the roof. I sat, shivering, my knees pulled up to my chest and my arms wrapped around them for warmth. I was singing softly, Siulil A Run, the song Spot sang to me all those nights ago in Manhattan. _Manhattan, I wonder how Dawn is doing, I see her at work and we talk. But she's seemed distant. It was rude of me to leave so abruptly without telling her why, I'll tell her at work tomorrow. _

As if on cue, I felt a warm blanket draped across my shoulders as Spot sat next to me, pulling me into his lap and rocking me back and forth.

"This has got to stop, Anet, it's not healthy," he said sternly.

"I know Ryan, but I can't help it. It's like Jack pulled a magic plug and all my bad memories spilled out! I want to feel at home, I _am_ home, but I don't feel like it," I said softly. A lone tear traced a delicate line on my cheek. I wiped it away with the tip of my finger, looking at it reflecting the moonlight like a tiny mirror.

"Youse are the most precious thing that happened to me," Spot said. "I promised I would protect youse, and I will. Forever. I love you! I really do, no matter what Francis says. He has his lies too; he shouldn't be raggin' on youse. I will protect you, from everything," he tilted my face up to his and our lips met. It wasn't fiery, just simple. Sweet. It pulled me away from the world and let me sit in silence and filled with love for a mere few seconds.

"Tomorrow I'll show youse Brooklyn, all of it. It's me kingdom after all! Ise'll pick youse up aftah woik and we can go to lunch and then I'll show you a Brooklyn night-on-the-town. But youse need some sleep. Come on," he hauled me to my feet and led me back downstairs. He sang softly in my ear as I fell into a dreamless sleep. I knew, somewhere next door, Spot was fighting my nightmares for me.

I woke up and pulled on my clothes. I was looking forward to today. I wasn't afraid, I wasn't upset. He would protect me. He always did, sometimes from myself. I walked into Wainwright and straight to Dawn.

"Hey Dawn!" I chirped.

"You seem happy today," she was smiling.

"I am! I'm sorry about leaving so fast, I just got really upset about Jack," I said, looking at the floor. "Will you forgive me for not explaining sooner?"

"Of course! I'm sure you were feeling poorly, and didn't want to talk about it. Guess what?' she asked, handing me a dusting rag.

"What?" I asked, starting to dust the spines of un purchased books.

"I have a date to Tibby's today!" she smiled.

"A certain boy with a crutch?" I asked, smiling slyly myself.

"Yes! He's so sweet and funny, and he smiles all the time too. I love guys who are more happy than sad!" she said, moving to the shelf opposite me.

"Spot's taking me to lunch today," I said.

"Really now?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes," I said, pretending to be haughty, "On a white horse!" we both laughed aloud, the sound filling the otherwise empty store.

"It's so nice, knowing you have someone there for you," I sighed.

"Yeah," Dawn was almost wistful. We chatted and cleaned. Saturdays were usually busy in the afternoons, but I had the morning shift today. I put away our rags and dusters as Allison and Jasmine walking in, their heads bent together and tittering about nonsense as usual.

I met Spot just outside the door.

"Heya Princess," he said. I smiled and allowed him to wrap his arm around my waist. We walked to a small pub, a gold painted sign hung over the door 'Four Leaf Clover' how cliché. We walked in and sat down, I ordered and he ordered. We picked at our food, paying most of our attention to the other and what they were saying. Spot picked his head up from his plate when I made a comment.  
"Why does Brooklyn respect you so much?" I asked.

"Because, Ise got brawn behind me and a brain," he said. "More than half of one!"

"How did that brawn get behind you?" I asked, leaning slightly forward in my chair.

"It's called smarts. If you've got smarts, you've got persuasion. I used my adept social skills ta get 'em ta follow me," he said.

"Really?" I asked.

"No, I soaked half of 'em and the others followed me," he said with a smirk and a chuckle.

"So you have brawns _and_ brains. I'm a lucky girl," I said.

"Naw, Ise a lucky guy!" he reached across the table to push a stray hair behind my ear. I blushed at his words and was about to protest when he stood. I stood too and followed him out into the street silently.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"Somewhere," he said, sending me a look that read 'Ha ha'. As we walked, girls looked at me enviously and women talked to each other from behind baskets of laundry. Men waved and some made kissing noises. Spot smiled and waved, everyone looked at him in a sort of friendly awe. I felt like I was holding hands with an enigma. Someone everyone knew _about_ but no one truly _knew._ But I knew him, almost every crack and crevice of his memory had my face in it. And mine had his. Except a five year hole that neither of us wanted to fall into.

"So, your Majesty, where are we going?" I asked again. It was futile. He just grinned sideways at me as we walked and he stopped at a shop. He told me to sit on the bench outside and wait. I did as I was told, observing my surroundings. I'd never been to this part of Brooklyn, and I didn't recognize a single face. The buildings were well cared for, but still rather shabby. The people milling around were wearing clean clothes without many patches, but they weren't new. Everyone seemed to know everyone else, and it made me feel so small sitting on the bench alone. I was glad when Spot returned. He was wearing a clean blue shirt instead of his raggedy old gingham. He looked really spiffed up.

"Where did your old shirt go?" I asked without thinking.

"Mrs. O'Grady sort of, recycles, clothes. She'll make me a new one in the same print, but bigger. I need a bigger shirt," he rambled.

"Oh. Alright," I said, looking around my surroundings again.

"Ready to go where I've been waiting to take you?' Spot asked.

"Yes," I all but sighed in relief.

"Me an' Jacky-boy used to visit heah when we was real young. When we didn't want youse ta know," he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

"It's alright," I smiled, "I understand." He pulled me into an alleyway and I heard several hoots from the men behind us as we disappeared. Spot's face didn't reveal any emotions, so I followed silently. We came up upon a hole in a wall; it led to a sort of clubhouse. On the walls were pictures and news clippings. I recognized several of them.

'Boy Escapes Refuge while Governor Visits' Jack obviously.

'Brooklyn Leader Evades Arrest' Spot. (Unfortunately)

'Child Gambler Wins big at Races' Racetrack!

Then there were ads for porcelain tubs, two of them, side by side. It made me laugh. There was a ratty couch with holes in it. We were in an abandoned tenement building! Spot smiled at me, motioning with his arm.

"This is how I became leader of Brooklyn," he said proudly.

"Really? How so?" I asked.

"I was selling one day, down at the corner of Snyder and Delancy, when two big newsies come up to me. Says they's from Brooklyn and need me to talk to their leader. I was scared out of my wits. You know I was a Manhattan newsie foist right?" I shook my head, not knowing any of his history.

"Well, I was. I shook my head no. The tallest one picked me up and threw me, kicking and screaming, over his shoulder and toted me to Brooklyn." I laughed. Spot scowled.

"He threw me onto the docks, right in front of a tall boy wearing red suspenders and carrying a cane. This cane here. He said 'Is this Spot?'. The two boys who brought me nodded. 'Good, train him up'. And those two boys, Lefty and Thumper, beat the living tar outta me. I got to be a better fighter and leader, and I moved to Brooklyn. Eventually, the old leader, Dice, was retiring and wanted me to have his place. His 'Spot' and that is how I became leader and got my ridiculous nickname." He finished, bowing at the waist and sitting down on the couch next to me.

"Wow, that's amazing!" I said cheerfully.

"Yeah, what was life like back in Jersey?" Spot asked.

And I began my half of the story…


	7. Home

**Why so short? Because I need them to be so that the chapter content matches the lyrics at the beggining. This chapter is REALLY face-paced. So I apologize if it comes out fillerish or rushed. It's almost over, I hate to say it! Check out my new mystery...and The King And I (My all time fav. next to The Future Is Calling) Thanks!**

* * *

TRY TO FIND SOMETHING GOOD

IN THIS TRAGIC PLACE

JUST IN CASE

I AM HELD HERE FOREVER

-'Home' Beauty and the Beast

"Well?" Spot asked again, sitting down next to me and grasping my hand in his.

"Dad had inherited a little house on the edge of the city. We lived there and that's where Mamma did all her work. She made lots of money on the dresses, because people wanted to be in fashion. Because Mamma knew what was fashionable in New York City, the women near us ordered dress after dress in many styles. Papa was a policeman, so kind and loving. Like you remember him," I sighed. Spot nodded. "All of our city's newsies respected the law, but if other newsies were having troubles, they would come ONLY to Papa.

"I was a very sought after young lady, many boys would come to the door and ask to take me to a dance or some other social function." I felt Spot's hand tense in my own.

"My heart was in Manhattan, in your hands. I never said yes to any of them. In fact, even though Mamma and Papa pressed me to forget about you, I still looked at the picture we had together every night. For five years I waited to come back. New Jersey wasn't home. I was just staying there because my parents were there. I am a New York girl at heart, and I missed the bustle of the City. And I missed all my friends and you.

"One day," I held back tears at this part of the memory, "Mamma told me to pack a nightgown and a clean dress because they would be staying at a friend's for the night. Somehow their house started on fire and Mamma and Papa died." I was in Spot's strong arms in less than ten seconds. "I didn't even get to say goodbye to them," I sobbed.

"Ise got youse," Spot crooned.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," I said, wiping my eyes. I wasn't over their deaths. I probably never would be.

"Wanna head back?" Spot asked.

"Sure," I said tiredly and allowed him to help me to my feet. We walked back to the Lodging House hand in hand, a comfortable silence enveloped us. We knew each other's stories.

When we walked through the door, Jack was sitting on the couch.

"What do youse want?" Spot pulled me behind him, his voice nothing but a growl.

"To apologize foah sayin dose stupid tings," Jack's head hung low as he rose and approached us, "I didn't mean what I said. I was jealous and I was angry. Do you want to come back to Manhattan?" Jack asked, finally working up the nerve to look at me.

"No," I said simply. "I forgive you Jack, and give my love to Race for me, but this is where I belong. This is where my true love is," I saw the sneer cross Jack's face. Then disappear as he suppressed his feelings of dislike for the situation.

"You'll find someone one day, Francis, and you'll love her very much."

"Suah, you keep dreamin' Princess. I'm suah dat Spotty heah will take good care 'ah youse. Good luck," Jack shoved past and was gone. _Why was he so blind? Did he not understand what it was like? _No, he didn't. His feelings were always scorned or cast aside in the path of others. He was a leader, and therefore made of stone. His feelings weren't supposed to show in public. He was a stone wall of absolutely impenetrable memories. It was a strange thing. To see someone altered like that in front of you_. _

"Come on Spot, I'm going to bed." It had grown dark outside on our walk back. I was tired from the excursion. Fortunately, I didn't have work tomorrow.

I laid down on my little mattress and closed my eyes, falling into oblivion.

When I woke up the next day, the house was quiet. The boys were probably out selling the morning edition and I was still sort of tired. I opened my window to let in a breeze. Sitting on the fire escape was a single red rose and a note 'I'm sorry, love forever Jack'

That poor boy needed someone of his own to love. I wished with all my heart at that moment that I could give it to him.

I met up with Dawn, Spot, and Crutchy at Tibby's for a meeting that afternoon. Crutchy and Dawn were holding hands and smiling at each other every five minutes.

"Are we that bad?" I asked in a stage whisper; leaning over to Spot.

"I hope not," he answered.

"Oh shut up," Dawn smacked my arm playfully with her free hand.

"Whatever," I smiled back. We ate and talked and hung out. Then the most surprising thing happened. Jack walked in. With a strange girl. And they were laughing.

"Who's dat Jack?" Crutchy asked. Jack looked at me, winked, smiled, and turned back to the girl.

"This is the lovely Jinx. I found her wandering around this afternoon. Turns out she wants a job as a newsie. She's also real sweet," Crutchy just about fell out of his chair at Jack's last words. _Finally._ I thought.

"Well, thanks for having us over, we need to be getting back and making sure that no one tried to kill one another in our absence." Spot said, standing up. He and Jack shook hands.

"Goodbye Jack, Jinx," I shook their hands as we passed.

"Thanks Princess," Jack whispered so that only I could hear him.

"Come on," Spot said impatiently.

"Later guys!" I waved and followed Spot out the door. Back to our little Brooklyn home.


	8. A New Day

MANY A NEW LOVE

WILL FIND ME

NEVER DO I LOOK

BACK AND SIGH

-'A New Day' Oklahoma

One day, you will realize that everything you've ever wanted is right in front of you. You will walk up to it, embrace it, and whisper, "I love you" to it.

I found my Everything, his name is Ryan. Or, if you will, Spot. I love him very much, and I have, for the past twenty years. Ever since we met, at age three. I am twenty three years old now, and a proud mother of one. A son. Named Jack Thomas Conlon; lovingly referred to as 'Speck'. I am Mrs. Aednat Conlon. My husband is Ryan Shane Thomas Conlon.

We live in a little apartment in the south of Brooklyn, New York, near the Kelley's and the Daniels.

Mr. and Mrs. Jacob Daniels (Aka Crutchy and Dawn Daniels) have a lovely daughter named Joy, who looks like her mother but has her father's lively spirit. They live three buildings down from us. In their building; two floors away are Mr. and Mrs. Meyers.

Mush (Daryl) Meyers married Clarissa Hines. They are currently childless, but extremely happy babysitting for my family or the Daniels.

The Kelleys (Jack and Amy 'Jinx' Kelley) run the Manhattan Lodging House, Jack is still lovingly called 'Cowboy' by many of the boys who live there today. Sometimes Ryan and I visit, the boys look at him in awe, and at me in motherly affection. Jack must tell some wild stories, because one day a little boy ran up to my husband and said, "Did you really soak all a Queens by yoahself?"

"Naw, Ise had some help," he laughed and winked at Jack.

Mr. Louis Higgins and Mrs. Samantha Marie Higgins live four blocks away, near the racetrack. They own one black filly who only runs in a few races a month. Her name is Princess. The Higgins have one daughter, Libby, who is quite taken by my two year old, Jack.

Life is great in New York, friends stayed friends, foes became friends and got over differences. I'll miss my days running around Brooklyn, stopping turf wars, shoving Spot off the docks, and living a crazy Newsie life. But I enjoy motherhood, and my family being around me. Ryan works at Wainwright with me, and is currently signing the papers saying we own it. Someday soon, on the shelf, will be my autobiography.

'IN HIS ARMS'

By: Aednat Belle 'Princess' Conlon

* * *

**I know the ending sucks. That's cause I stink at them! Anyhow, this may be familiar to my ending for the Wishes stories, but I just like the way this sums everything up and ties the loose ends! Alright...thanks for reading...check out Brooklyn's Grounds and my upcoming trilogy: Lost, Found, Forgotten! :)**

**Firefly Conlon**


End file.
